A Little Magic
by HeBelievedMe
Summary: Draco and Hermione happen to be in the world. And are single. And says me I should make it so they are in the world. But not so single. This is what happens when you get mono and want to write a story.
1. How Unfortunate for You

Chapter 1

A little magic never hurt anyone.

Or at least that's what Draco Malfoy had whispered in her ear before walking away.

Normally Hermione would have been able to think up a dictionary full of reasons why magic did indeed harm people, but right now all her neurons were focusing on a single thing that had nothing to do with pain.

Draco Malfoy's hair.

'This is fun,' Draco thought to himself as he walked through a hallway of hormonal teenagers. 'Nasty little children are all probably picturing me naked right now.'

'Through no fault of their own,' reminded his conscience that, ever since a ridiculously sexy slap Draco had received in third year from a certain bushy-haired girl, had decided to show up less and less. Draco honestly was surprised that it hadn't taken a permanent vacation to the Bahamas.

'They would be staring anyways' Draco reminded his conscience firmly. 'Besides, aren't you supposed to be sunbathing or drinking margaritas or something?'

'Yes, well' his conscience stuttered. After a few awkward moments it gave up with a 'You're right. What in the world am I doing here? I've got a hot date tonight. Don't bug me.' And with that his conscience left to better places.

'Like I ever do,' Draco thought to himself with a mental eye roll. He still couldn't believe that it had taken him 14 years to get rid of the little beggar.

With his conscience safely out of the way, Draco returned to his task at hand; find and seduce Hermione Granger.

Actually it should really have been labeled the task pending, considering he'd been working toward accomplishing it for the last 4 years.

Draco was nothing if not patient and determined.

'And sexy to boot' he thought as he winked at his ridiculously good-looking reflection in a nearby window.

Today was the day that Hermione Granger would be his. Of course, so was yesterday. And the day before. And all last week. In fact, not that it mattered, so were all the days since that life-changing slap of third year.

But his tactics had drastically changed in one major step; Draco had stopped listening to his father.

Lucius had always loved giving advice. He even wrote for an advice column in Witch Weekly under the name Lucia U Fulmoy (though he probably wouldn't even admit it under Veritaserum). And he was _good_. He was extremely good at telling _anyone_ how to solve their problems.

Except Draco.

That didn't stop him from trying though.

So when Draco had asked him how to get a certain 'special someone' to notice him 'that way' Lucius had sat Draco down and proceeded to feed an excess of rubbish to a (somewhat) innocent, open-minded 14-year old.

Draco had come out of their little chat with the impression that all you had to do to get someone to notice you was to be mean to them.

Equipped with this information, Draco was good and ready to battle.

And battle he did. For the next few years. But one morning while his conscience was taking him through a biannual "checkup" and forcing him to relive the more gruesome experiences that came with being a Slytherin Prince and an all around sex god, Draco realized that this tactic not only was not working, it was having an effect opposite to the desired one.

And it only took him 4 years to figure it out.

This was when Draco had decided to switch tactics and use only his own ideas – and maybe some of Narcissa's. And Dumbledore's. And Blaise's. And…

Never mind.

He was using his (and a few other peoples') original ideas in a masterful plan that made Napoleon Bonaparte look like he was Barney, and today was the day that she would be his.

Finally Draco and his ever-growing group of overzealous admirers reached the library. Swiftly Draco closed the door and set up a few nasty charms so his followers (or anyone else for that matter) would have no desire whatsoever to enter.

He was going to be alone with Hermione Granger

Without even having to think Draco headed back to the table he knew that Hermione would be at.

'Stalking has its advantages,' he thought as he neared a bushy head of hair. And how true that sentence was.

For example, Draco knew that in Hermione's Charms class (9:00-12:00am on Tuesdays, Wednesday, and Thursday) Flitwick had assigned a 2-foot essay on the moral implication of using Freudian charms during psychology sessions. He also knew that Hermione would be researching that topic right at this very moment. But most importantly he knew that she wouldn't find a single thing.

Because he had checked out all the books regarding that topic not 3 hours ago.

Just as he had expected, Draco heard a low growl and saw Hermione's book snap shut. Lazily he sauntered over to her while pulling out a sheet of paper. Just as he expected the little witch heard his slow, deliberate footsteps and swiveled around to see who would dare approach her private study corner.

And just as he expected, once Hermione's delectable eyes caught sight of him, those two gems were not going any where until he made it otherwise.

'Oh yes,' Draco thought to himself. 'Today is definitely the day.'


	2. Madam Pince needs a haircut

Chapter 2

It was hot in the library that day.

Hermione knew exactly what that meant;

1) Today would be a nightmare to spend packed in a claustrophobic setting, crammed in with an excess of books, and studying with all the heat

And 2) Madam Pince would not be regulating the temperature any time soon because she had gone to meet up with her Groovy Group of friends from the 60's from some peace (grass), love (free sex), and music (Jimi Hendrix).

Unfortunately for Hermione the studying was completely and hopelessl mandatory, because she had only _240 hours_ left until the paper was due and she needed to start it.

NOW!

So with an excess of hustling, bustling, and pointless glares Hermione Granger made her way to the Charms section.

As many people knew, Hermione granger was no idiot. So when she looked for all the books that she knew mentioned the use of Freudian charms and ALL of them were missing she quickly figured that something smelled fishy in the library of Hogwarts.

And it wasn't just that pimply second year's BO over in the Potion's section.

She came to the same conclusion when all the books with _footnotes_ referring to the books she was looking for were also missing.

Finally after an hour or so Hermione decided to do something her parents had taught her when she had first gone to a library all those years ago.

Start in A's.

Book by book Hermione's pile was steadily gaining height. She was on E's already and still her search was yielding no fruits.

She somehow doubted that the book she was holding – 101 Ways to Improve Eggnog by E G Eggy – was going to help.

With a growl she snapped the book shut and began to massage her temples. She was just about to replace all the E's and move onto F's when she heard slow, steady footsteps that seemed to keep time with the throbbing in her head.

Hermione turned around and was about to reprimand him/her when her eyes focused on the owner of the footsteps.

Hermione's subconscious only barely recognized that the man had come over and knelt next to her, and she couldn't be buggered that he was talking to her and she was somehow answering in the affirmative. She scarcely felt her hand move as she signed the paper Draco had placed in front of her. It hardly registered when he put a ring on her finger. The first time she even semi-regained her conscious form of thinking was when he asked her a relatively simple question;

"Do you like my hair?" he asked in an obviously jesting manner. There was no doubt in his mind as to whether or not she liked his hair.

For some reason Hermione wanted to say no, but knew that it would be a blatant lie. Instead she settled with a breathy "You must have used magic, Malfoy."

He leaned into her ear and she could smell his delicious hair as he purred "A little magic never hurt anyone."

And then he was gone.

Review if you value your butt because if you don't I'm gonna whoop your tail. And I'm not even from the south.

Now that's what I call butter.


	3. Who Says Love is for Hufflepuffs?

Chapter 3

It was a normal day in the Slytherin common room. Blaise had the warmest, most comfortable couch and a rather large gaggle of girls congregated around him. He basked in the warmth of the familiarity of his monstrous Slytherin minions and he spent his minutes doing what any normal teenager would do.

That is, plotting the demise of his peers, namely Gryffindors.

But perhaps today was not so normal after all because Blaise's counterpart, the other Slytherin prince was missing. And how could one plot genocide if one didn't have one's fellow mastermind?

Hermione quickl noticed this sad lack of a key ingredient as she stormed into the common room.

Nobody even thought of asking her how she knew where or how to get into their domain.

Nobody cared.

Hermione marched up to Blaise Zabini who, by this time was looking slightly amused.

"Where is the ferret?" Hermione asked, her voice in a low growl and her eyes flashing dangerously.

"Malfoy manor," Blaise replied without blinking an eye. "But good luck – "

Hermione disappeared with a crack.

"– getting there." Zabini could not help but laugh. "Poor girl."

Had Hermione Granger been thinking properly she might have found it strange that she had apparated to the Malfoy manor without so much as a 'By your leave.' It also might have struck her as a tad bit odd that she knew exactly the way to Draco Malfoy's bedroom. It might have disgusted her a little that she wasn't even heading for his bedroom but instead was aiming for his bathroom.

But Hermione Granger was not thinking clearly at all. So with no hesitations she barged into a room with a silver dragon embellished on the door and headed straight past the bed, closet and anything else that might have been near her path into the bathroom.

It was by no means a small bathroom and a lesser woman might have found herself completely enthralled by all the gadgets and gizmos. Hermione, instead of exploring, went straight to the medicine cabinet and started rummaging through it frantically.

Though Hermione found enough blackmail for a decade of use, ("Natural male enlargement pills? I mean honestly!") there was nothing that was even close to what she was looking for.

Not that she knew what she was looking for, because truthfully what she had hoped to find – some sort of love potion that could be applied to his hair – didn't seem to exist.

"Hermione," a voice said bemusedly from the bathroom door, "if you needed to use the loo that badly you could have gone at Hogwarts,"

Hermione swiveled to look at the boy who had caused the last day of confusion and was very grateful she did because when she caught sight of his normal, unenchanted and ridiculously blonde hair she found that she was no longer in as much of a dreamlike trance and could now think relatively much more clearly.

And she wanted an explanation.

"Draco Bloody Malfoy! What in the world is going on? You show me what you did to your hair or I'll… I'll bite you!"

"Please do," he retorted moving closer.

"Oh, no," Hermione said, closing her eyes. "Please let this be over!"

"Let what be over?" Draco asked.

"I'm having strange thoughts about you," Hermione answered, then one of her eyes peeked open, "But if you tell anyone I said that you will wish so badly that you had never had magic, gone to Hogwarts or learned how to hula hoop."

Draco wisely remained silent at the last comment.

She sighed and ran her hand through the tangled bird's nest that happened to sit on top of her head. "I thought it was all just a byproduct of whatever you did to your hair, but they're still coming and they're not really slowing down."

"Don't worry, baby, it _is_ all just a byproduct of what I did to my hair."

"Come again?"

"Long story or short story?"

"Which one will inflict the least psychological damage?"

"All right, we'll go with short." Draco ushered Hermione into his room and motioned for her to sit down on the bed. She pointedly ignored his gestures and moved to sit in a chair to his left. Draco shrugged and continued talking. "Honestly the potion just alerts the drinker's 'significant other' to their existence, in a way that neither the drinker of the significant other would never forget."

"So it _was_ a love potion. And why did the whole school notice you if it was just meant for me. It was meant for me, wasn't it?"

"Of course it was meant for you. And as for the other question, let me say this. Don't ever make a potion with Blaise Zabini. He knows so many tricks and sidesteps in potion-making that you could start out making a Hair-Changing Potion and end up with a Lust-Inducing Potion."

"You know this first-hand I suppose?" Hermione asked with an eyebrow raised.

"Of course. Because I look like I use Hair-Changing Potion."

"So you admit your hair color is fake. I knew there was something artificial about you," her breath caught as he moved in closer to her. She would not run away. She would not be intimidated. "Other than the smile,"

"So you've noticed."

"The grades."

"I work for my grades! How low can you get?"

"The friends."

"Hermione, you are a minx."

"The male anatomy."

"Why in the world would you think that?" By this time he was so near to her she could barely breathe. "I guess I'll just have to show you how truly genuine I am. All of me." And with that he closed the distance between them and pressed his lips to hers ever so gently.

Hermione wondered why, if the potion was no longer present, she still felt so strangely attracted to this boy - ohhhh, maybe he was a man - who had been her enemy for the last 7 years. The feelings only escalated as he kissed her, pulling her up next to him and wrapping his arms around her waist and back.

Slowly Hermione's hands found their way to his hair and pulled his face closer as she opened her mouth to his. Almost like a dance, their tongues battled for dominance.

Hermione was winning.

Until the little bugger took his arms from her back and brought them to her front in an entirely improper way.

She pulled her mouth away from his. "I can't do this," she said with her eyes closed and cheeks flushed. "This is just too wrong on too many levels."

"Whatever do you mean?" Draco asked nuzzling her neck.

"I don't even like you! I'm just attracted to you because of the stupid love potion, aren't I?"

Draco sighed and moved his head from her shoulder. "I should probably explain to you how this potion works," he said as he moved over to the bed and motioned for her to sit down next to him.

"You probably should and I think I'd like to stay right here, thank you very much."

"Suit yourself," Draco shrugged, "The potion is called… actually I don't even remember. Blaise and I were more than a little tired when we found it and we didn't bother to write down the name. But it has only one function – that is if you brew it without all the special features that Blaise felt the need to add."

"And what would this one function be?"

"At the risk of sounding like a sappy romance novel, it's to alert your true love to your existence, and it requires them to… how do I put this? Deal with their feelings before they would normally even recognize them for what they were."

"So you're saying that you're my true love?"

"The feeling goes both ways, darling."

"I guess I can accept that, but it doesn't mean that we have to act on it. At least not until we're 50, or graduated from school or something."

"Um, Hermione, were you paying attention to anything Dumbledore or I said today at the library?"

"Can't say that I was, no."

"Well, dearest," Draco moved over to her and lifted her left hand. "We already did act on it."

Hermione looked down at her hand and briefly wondered how she couldn't have noticed a ring that big. And not a second later she let out a blood-curdling howl.

Draco looked at her, an amused expression on his face as her screaming quieted down. "Are you done? I hope you feel better after you've gotten that out of your system,"

"Much better, thank you," Hermione said. "But is a marriage valid if you weren't even aware it happened?"

"Of course. We had all the essential ingredients; a licensed official, a marriage license, both our signatures and a witness."

"Who was the witness?"

"Some smelly second year dawdling around nearby."

"Oh."

"Yes."

"Right, so that was how I was able to apparate onto the manor."

"Yup."

"I'm not having children right away."

"Mm hmm," Draco said in an extremely noncommittal kind of way. If Narcissa had any say they would most likely be popping them out within the first 9 months.

"So what happens now?" Hermione asked, not looking at him, and _definitely_ not looking at the bed.

"We go on our honeymoon," he answered.

"Where to?" Hermione asked, pretending a blush wasn't creeping up her cheeks.

"You'll see," Draco said and he stood up and pulled her into him. They were both gone with a crack

And nothing else needs to be said except that I hear Venice is lovely this time of year.


End file.
